


until next time

by nervousbakedown



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Crying, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Unsafe Sex, sexual arousal from baseball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervousbakedown/pseuds/nervousbakedown
Summary: This has been happening ever since Kris’ rookie year. Bryce always visits Kris in his hotel room when the Cubs come to Washington after the game, or vice versa when the Nats go to Chicago.And they fool around.





	until next time

**Author's Note:**

> this was a long time coming. this is also entirely fictional, if you know the real-life people listed above please turn back.

Bryce runs a hand through his hair before giving Kris a brief once-over. He leans his forearm against the doorframe. “Damn, Bryant. You’re even prettier than the last time I saw you.”

Kris purses his lips and steps back from the door. This has been happening ever since Kris’ rookie year. Bryce always visits Kris in his hotel room when the Cubs come to Washington after the game, or vice versa when the Nats go to Chicago. And they fool around. It’s almost ritualistic in nature for Kris, like spring training or Fourth of July fireworks.

“You’re…” Kris starts, but fails to think of anything interesting. Bryce has a way of making him forget how to think. 

Bryce flashes him a grin and steps inside, past Kris and into the room. Kris releases the door, lets it fall shut, and turns around to see Bryce standing in front of the nearest bed. He’s silhouetted by the soft lighting from the bedside lamp, standing there in a grey t-shirt and form-fitting jeans. 

“Well,” Bryce says with a sigh and another smile. He’s gazing at Kris in a way that makes Kris feel like he’s undressing him with his eyes, as if he’s contemplating what he’s going to do to him in advance of actually doing it.

“Well…” Kris repeats, feeling bold. “You going to keep staring or what?”

Bryce bites his tongue, his eyes meeting Kris’. He reaches for the hem of his own shirt and pulls it up and over his head, revealing a muscular chest that’s no doubt a result of good genes and hours upon hours in the gym. Bryce has shoulders like a linebacker and a six pack with a sandy-blonde treasure trail between the waistband of his jeans and his bellybutton. Now it’s Kris who finds himself leering. 

“You’re such a dick,” Kris sighs, shaking his head. The arrogance, the confidence — it’s Bryce’s schtick, and Kris falls for it every time. 

Bryce steps closer to Kris until he’s standing right in front of him. Putting his hands on Kris’ waist, he murmurs, “Hell yeah, KB. Love it when you talk dirty.”

Kris rolls his eyes but moans softly anyway. He’s unable to resist Bryce no matter what he does. As if he can sense this simple fact, Bryce suavely lifts Kris’ shirt up and off and tosses it to the floor. He places a steady hand along Kris’ jaw and leans in for a kiss, tilting his head. Kris can already feel himself growing hard in his jeans, a fact he finds both pathetic and understandable given how forward Bryce is.

Bryce slides his tongue into Kris’ mouth at the same time he moves his hand to the back of Kris’ neck. He threads his fingers in his hair, which is getting fairly long at this point in the season. Kris moans and tries his best to push Bryce forward in the direction of the bed. He no longer wants to stand; he wants to lie there and let Bryce do whatever the hell he wants with him. Soon enough, Bryce picks up on this. He guides Kris down onto the bed before climbing over him, crowding around him, his stupid hair falling down and tickling Kris’ forehead as they kiss. 

Keeping the pace rather slow, Bryce holds Kris still while he licks into his mouth. He starts rolling his hips’ against Kris’ after awhile at the same pace, and it’s enough to leave Kris moaning.

“Fuck,” Kris curses once Bryce finally breaks their kiss. He smirks at Kris and places both hands on Kris’ chest, palms flat, before sitting up. Straddling Kris’ lap, Bryce grinds against Kris again and moans at the friction against his dick. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since the 3rd inning, Kris,” Bryce says before rutting his dick against Kris’ through their jeans. The two moan, practically in sync. Kris watches Bryce shake his hair out of his face and bite his bottom lip. 

Bryce keeps talking while desperately rolling his hips forward, because he’s both the biggest whore and the biggest tease Kris has ever known. “When you hit that homer, fuck, I had to pretend to be mad…”

“Really?” Kris asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Moving his hands to the bed on either side of Kris’ chest, Bryce leans over Kris some more. “Watching you run around the bases, that tight little ass of yours… I wanted to go down to you guys’ dugout and jump you right there.”

Kris’ mouth drops open at that. He lets out an involuntary “oh, fuck” at the same time he feels heat course through his body. Bryce smiles at his reaction and sits back up. He moves his hands to Kris’ belt and starts undoing it without saying anything for a moment. 

“And when you caught that liner I hit right to you in the 7th,” Bryce speaks in a hushed, low voice, managing to make a routine baseball play sound inherently sexual. “I swear, that made my dick hard.”

Bryce is wriggling Kris’ jeans and briefs down at this point, doing his best while keeping his eyes locked on Kris’. Kris moans louder than he has yet and bites his lip. Part of him wants to beg for this to move quicker, to beg Bryce to get on with it, but he doesn’t. He realizes that part of him likes the torture. 

Once Bryce has fully wrangled Kris’ pants off, he walks back up on his hands and knees. He stands up on his knees once he’s right near Kris’ shoulders. Kris sighs and tentatively reaches out to touch Bryce’s denim-clad thigh. He already knows what’s about to happen; Bryce doesn’t need to say anything. 

Kris finds himself really into watching Bryce take his pants off. From undoing his belt to carefully easing them down his thighs, Bryce works in such a way that suggests if he wasn’t a professional baseball player he could easily be a male stripper. The whole show just makes Kris want his cock in his mouth more. Bryce strokes himself a few times and gazes at Kris’ mouth before bending his knees and getting closer. They hold eye contact as Bryce eases his cock past Kris’ lips, just the tip at first. Kris moans, although it’s more of a groan at this point, and spreads his palms against Bryce’s thick thighs. 

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Bryce says under his breath. He pushes in a little further, with Kris opening his mouth wider. Kris steadily takes a breath in through his nose and blinks a few times. 

Bryce stays still for awhile before pulling back, closely watching Kris’ lips drag against his cock. He pushes back in, only going about halfway, but it's enough to make him sigh and throw his head back. He puts his hands in Kris’ dark brown hair before looking down at him again. His intense gaze is enough to make Kris moan around his cock.

“Shit,” Bryce swears and pulls out. He idly strokes his dick in his hand while gazing down at Kris, telling him, “I could come right now, but I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Kris agrees. 

Swinging one leg over Kris, Bryce makes it so he’s no longer hovering over him and instead is sitting on his heels beside him. “You wanna get on your hands and knees, pretty boy?”

Kris sighs at the pet name. He sits up, feeling a little faint, and quickly gets himself on his hands and knees. He finds a pillow and hugs it, resting his head down on it.

“I fucking hate you,” Kris tells Bryce as he spreads his legs. Behind him, he can hear Bryce moving around. A moment later Kris feels Bryce’s hands on his ass, spreading him apart.

“Oh, I know you do,” Bryce murmurs. He leans in and gets his tongue around Kris’ hole immediately after, causing Kris to gasp and sigh. 

Neither of them speak for awhile as Bryce focuses on rimming Kris, alternating between using the tip of his tongue and licking flatly all around. Kris can’t help but let out a soft “oh my god” when Bryce works the tip of his tongue inside, only to pull out after a few seconds and lick around his rim again. Kris can feel Bryce’s beard rub against his skin, rougher and softer depending how close he presses his face.

Eventually, Bryce pulls away just enough to speak. “Such a slut, KB. Bet you can’t wait for me to get my dick in there.”

Kris moans, tries his best to spread his legs further. He hears Bryce get up abruptly, then watches him go over to retrieve his jeans on the floor. He fishes through his pocket before taking out a small bottle of lube and rejoining Kris on the bed. 

“You’re gonna open up so easy for me, aren’t you,” Bryce says at the same time Kris feels lube being squeezed right onto his hole. Kris moans and feels his dick twitch. Bryce is definitely right; he knows he's about ready to take it like it’s no problem at all.

Sitting back on his heels, Bryce eases a finger past Kris’ rim slowly. Kris sighs and bites his lip. He tries to keep quiet until Bryce starts to move, which leads him to moan softly again. Bryce soon adds a second finger without saying anything, and Kris can’t help but let out a soft, high-pitched “fuck” and hug his pillow tighter. 

After a few moments, Kris tells Bryce that he wants more. Bryce moans and adds a third finger in response, quickly working them in and out, one hand keeping Kris’ asscheeks spread apart. 

“Fuck me, oh my god, please,” Kris ends up begging soon thereafter. He knows he doesn’t need any prep anymore and realizes he’d much rather have Bryce’s cock being shoved into him.

Kris can hear the sound of Bryce slicking up his cock behind him. Bryce eases his fingers out of Kris and lifts his hips up, his nails roughly digging into his skin. Kris pushes himself up with his arms, no longer hugging the pillow, on his hands and knees in the truest sense. He arches his back and turns his head the best he can to watch Bryce. 

After placing a hand on Kris’ hip, Bryce puts his other hand on his cock and lines himself up with Kris’ hole. He presses the head in gently, a concentrated look on his face. Kris’ jaw drops and he involuntarily flinches forward, which leads Bryce to pull him back and steady him. Bryce pushes in the rest of the way with both hands on Kris’ hips, moaning from deep in his throat. Kris tries his best to relax; before long he’s eagerly pushing back against Bryce, trying to get him deeper, quicker. There is some pain that comes with it, but it’s pain Kris finds himself wanting.

With his hands still braced on Kris’ hips, Bryce pulls out halfway and steadily thrusts back in. Kris moans, a little obnoxiously, which leaves Bryce to do the same thing but harder and faster. 

“You’re not messing around, eh? Always such a slut for me,” Bryce says. Kris lets out a sigh in response. From there, Bryce gets the sense that it’s okay to be rough, that Kris _wants_ things to be rough. He tests out forcefully fucking into Kris one time and stopping, pulling Kris back so his dick is fully buried in him and holding him there. 

Kris grits his teeth. “Oh, fuck,” he manages to moan. 

After pulling out, Bryce decides to start giving it to Kris as hard as they both clearly want without holding back. He places one hand on Kris’ shoulder as he fucks him, the sounds of skin-on-skin slapping filling the room. Kris moans on the offset of every thrust, squeezing his eyes shut and babbling nonsense about how much he loves Bryce’s cock and how good it feels. This eventually leads Bryce to move his one hand from Kris’ shoulder to his mouth, covering it with his palm. He crowds in closer, using this hand as leverage in making Kris arch his back more. Kris moans against his palm, practically yelling, the sounds muffled but still audible. 

Bryce leans in close over Kris’ back, clearly empowered by this. He presses his lips close to Kris’ ear and decides to torture him some more. “I’m so happy you let me do this to you. God, I don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”

Kris moans against Bryce’s palm again, a loud, muffled “mmmm” sound. Bryce pauses for a moment before continuing, “Fuck, I hope you feel this tomorrow. Every time you step up to the plate I’m gonna be thinking about how good you take my cock.”

He lifts his palm from Kris’ mouth after this, leaving all the words and desperation to tumble out of Kris in a steady stream. A moment later, Bryce leans back and abruptly pulls out. He gets his hands on Kris and aggressively pushes him, manhandles him into lying down and then into rolling over on his back. Once he’s settled inbetween Kris’ legs again, Bryce quickly finds his entrance and picks right back up where he left off. 

Kris bites his bottom lip as he struggles not to cry. Bryce leans down, using his upper body strength to get as close to Kris as possible while still keeping an angle that allows him to thrust into him hard and deep. His wild hair is once again in Kris’ face as they maintain eye contact. 

“You like that, baby?” Bryce asks, pausing to groan, baring his teeth just slightly. “So good it makes you wanna cry, huh?”

Kris whines, feeling the tears prick his eyes. He nods and replies, “Mhmm. Fucking love your cock.”

“God, yes,” Bryce replies under his breath. He reaches for Kris’ leg, grabs onto his ankle, and puts it over his shoulder. He’s still intently looking at Kris; his blue eyes are intense, almost scary. Kris parts his lips and moans, not having words to articulate what he’s feeling.

After a few more minutes, Bryce moans and relents his pace enough to talk to Kris more clearly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m sure you want that, don’t you?”

Kris gasps. He’s breathing heavier now and finds himself nodding absentmindedly. “Yes, oh my god.”

“Of course you wanna feel me come deep inside you, you fucking whore.”

Kris responds with a strangled moan mixed with a cry. The tears are flowing from his eyes now and he knows he’s close to coming himself. He’s beginning to see stars and that pleasurable feeling deep in his gut is becoming too much to bear. He furrows his eyebrows and lets out a dramatic sigh of Bryce’s name.

Moments later, Bryce finally stops with his cock fully buried inside Kris. He groans as he comes, eyes still locked on Kris’, so close to him their noses barely touch. He eases Kris’ leg off his shoulder, his hand going down to his thigh. Kris bites his lip and moans at the feeling of Bryce’s come pumping inside of him. It’s probably the most intimate, absolute _filthiest_ thing he’s ever experienced. It’s so overwhelming that he shudders, squeezes his eyes shut, and comes all over his own chest, his cock never being touched.

He feels Bryce’s hand in his hair; after that they’re kissing again, slowly and deliberately, both of them calming down. Kris brings his arms up to loop around Bryce’s neck and sighs when he finally pulls out. Bryce breaks their kiss and softly touches Kris’ cheek with the back of his hand before rolling off him, lying down beside him on his back.

Kris exhales, feeling exhausted and satisfied. “Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_ ,” Bryce replies with a sigh and light laugh.

Kris laughs at that. Just as he’s beginning to wonder how long Bryce plans on staying, Bryce rolls off the bed and walks off. Kris gets under the covers while watching Bryce’s muscular back, admiring the tattoo on his side, his pale ass and long legs. Bryce is bent over as he pulls his jeans back on without putting his underwear on first. Kris raises an eyebrow at this. Bryce then picks his t-shirt and black briefs up off the floor before turning around and smirking at Kris. 

“You can keep these,” he says and tosses the underwear at Kris’ head.

Stunned, Kris fails to catch them. Bryce puts his shirt back on as Kris curiously regards the pair of underwear now in his hand. The two laugh, and Bryce goes over to Kris and leans over him where he’s lying down.

“Until next time, beautiful,” Bryce smiles before softly kissing Kris on the lips. Kris smiles into it, keeps smiling as he pulls away, always amazed at how the right fielder carries himself.

“Bye, asshole,” Kris props his head up with his elbow. He plays with the silky soft fabric in his hand as he watches Bryce walk towards the door.

Bryce turns around to wave and wink at Kris before he leaves and closes the door behind him. On the bed, Kris lies down on his back and lets out a swooning sigh, already looking forward to next time.


End file.
